Ep. 1 - Clashing Concerns - [Open]
Sept 4, 2014 15:24:08 GMT -5
Post by Optimus Prime on Sept 4, 2014 15:24:08 GMT -5
Episode: One
Week: Middle of Week Four
Time: 6:45pm
Leaders.
One often thinks that they know all that occurs within their ranks. Why wouldn't they? The ability to recognize each piece on the metaphorical board of chess was paramount to creating effective strategies that actually land the team victories. However that often only counted for abilities and limitations that directly related to the battlefield. Social conflicts? Personality clashes within the team itself? Optimus tended to be blind to, for it was difficult to be aware of it, when everyone is on their best most... fake... behavior in his presence. It also didn’t really bode well, that issues often never came to the surface from the mouths of those who felt slighted. The wronged tended to keep silent, bottling it down low to let the wounds rot and rust until the bar that held them back snapped.
It was this painful truth that meant when things finally went completely haywire? It was an unexpected surprise that gave Optimus very little warning to mentally prepare. Luckily? Some felt need to report such things to him and give him at least a minor heads up for what could bloom into a huge issue with the right catalysts. One who was always reliable to try to keep him up to speed on confrontations? Notifying him of troubled hitches within the ranks? Was Red Alert. The mech would inform him if anything had gone horribly astray, and send him routine reports even when things were as normal and bland as ever. It was only when Red Alert had wished to speak in person specifically? The Prime knew something really notable had happened, and his suspicions were not disappointed.
Not only were there two convicts within the base, but the details of their incarceration and the data of what had landed them there were lost at this time. This was bad enough, not knowing if they had someone that had only stole another's identity, or if it was a complete psychopath that would be more likely to try to bolt gun someone to a wall for dissection than work with others. The first kneejerk response Optimus felt? Was a violent 'no' paired with levels of worry for his team. But he had to understand and he had to evaluate the full picture rather than fret over the safety of those in base immediately without all the information.
Someone completely unhinged would not have been given an Autobot emblem, and would not have perhaps had the mindset to do it themselves as a lure. They also would likely have not survived in this war torn existence for this long. It required a level minded approach to not get obliterated on the battle field or executed by more extreme commanders far in space. If they were truly trigger happy aggressors? Than siding Decepticon would land them what was needed to sate such things rather than bothering to go Autobot. There also was the fact Ratchet had approved their codes and brought them in. Optimus trusted Ratchet's input, and if the old mech viewed them as stable enough to be permitted on site? They could not have been TRUE dangers. But there was still something to be apprehensive about.
Namely Fortress Maximus.
The Prime was currently within rec room, holding in his hand a cube of Energon. It was true that they didn't have an exceptional amount of fuel to spare, reserves and resources tight, but it had yet reach that point they all had to be put on rations. Despite this? Optimus only held a half cube that had yet to be drained yet, the vessel suspended above his palm by squared off fingertips that clapped over the bottom edging.
He was standing off to the side of the space, out of the way in case someone where to come in to fetch their own fuel, yet he didn't take a seat as many others would in his situation. He simply stood, long legs locked straight, shoulders pulled back, and stance almost slightly formal, as if he were speaking to another and performing his duties as Prime, and NOT just getting Energon completely alone. The only thing to break this stance was a slight downturn of his helm, which permitted blue optics to lock upon the matching liquid in the cube. Optimus almost seemed trapped in thought, over analyzing the container, though his mind was elsewhere.
Optimus was worried for Fortress Maximus. He didn't think the large mech would follow through with the... warning... in deactivating the convicts without trying to rally someone else onto his side. But even then? He had to keep tabs on the next few days. Perhaps speak with the tank if given an opportunity, but not seek him out and draw the conflict to the surface. Time may not heal all injuries, but it can ease the pain some. He could only hope that that proposition for murder, was a reaction in the moment, and not a constant thought that still seethed openly.
The metal thumb plate pressed against the cubes surface, a light squeaking of metal against the reinforced glass ringing out with a soft squeal. Optimus' eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he observed the thumbs motion, his processor spiraling down further into other concerns.
Really, this conflict was the last thing he needed to deal with. He had far more important things he should be worrying over, like Wheeljack and his antagonistic ways, what was to come with the Dark Energon that was likely still in play, MECH and the chaos THAT nonsense spurred on.
MECH was exceptionally notable though, for it was difficult enough having one threat to worry over, the Decepticons being a looming shadow that suffocated everything below it, but to add another? Another thing that was not as familiar to him? Was unsettling. Sure they could learn about humans, but they were still a completely alien species to him, not as... predictable... to some extent the Decepticons were. The fact they try to cut up Cybertronian like butchers for advancing their weaponry capabilities? Was... barbaric... The sight of Breakdown being ripped into on the small screen Ratchet had been holding, was burnt into his memories on just how far the humans would go.
The clever little creatures made up for their fragile build and tiny size with wicked cunning and an element of surprise and mysteriousness.
Week: Middle of Week Four
Time: 6:45pm
Leaders.
One often thinks that they know all that occurs within their ranks. Why wouldn't they? The ability to recognize each piece on the metaphorical board of chess was paramount to creating effective strategies that actually land the team victories. However that often only counted for abilities and limitations that directly related to the battlefield. Social conflicts? Personality clashes within the team itself? Optimus tended to be blind to, for it was difficult to be aware of it, when everyone is on their best most... fake... behavior in his presence. It also didn’t really bode well, that issues often never came to the surface from the mouths of those who felt slighted. The wronged tended to keep silent, bottling it down low to let the wounds rot and rust until the bar that held them back snapped.
It was this painful truth that meant when things finally went completely haywire? It was an unexpected surprise that gave Optimus very little warning to mentally prepare. Luckily? Some felt need to report such things to him and give him at least a minor heads up for what could bloom into a huge issue with the right catalysts. One who was always reliable to try to keep him up to speed on confrontations? Notifying him of troubled hitches within the ranks? Was Red Alert. The mech would inform him if anything had gone horribly astray, and send him routine reports even when things were as normal and bland as ever. It was only when Red Alert had wished to speak in person specifically? The Prime knew something really notable had happened, and his suspicions were not disappointed.
Not only were there two convicts within the base, but the details of their incarceration and the data of what had landed them there were lost at this time. This was bad enough, not knowing if they had someone that had only stole another's identity, or if it was a complete psychopath that would be more likely to try to bolt gun someone to a wall for dissection than work with others. The first kneejerk response Optimus felt? Was a violent 'no' paired with levels of worry for his team. But he had to understand and he had to evaluate the full picture rather than fret over the safety of those in base immediately without all the information.
Someone completely unhinged would not have been given an Autobot emblem, and would not have perhaps had the mindset to do it themselves as a lure. They also would likely have not survived in this war torn existence for this long. It required a level minded approach to not get obliterated on the battle field or executed by more extreme commanders far in space. If they were truly trigger happy aggressors? Than siding Decepticon would land them what was needed to sate such things rather than bothering to go Autobot. There also was the fact Ratchet had approved their codes and brought them in. Optimus trusted Ratchet's input, and if the old mech viewed them as stable enough to be permitted on site? They could not have been TRUE dangers. But there was still something to be apprehensive about.
Namely Fortress Maximus.
The Prime was currently within rec room, holding in his hand a cube of Energon. It was true that they didn't have an exceptional amount of fuel to spare, reserves and resources tight, but it had yet reach that point they all had to be put on rations. Despite this? Optimus only held a half cube that had yet to be drained yet, the vessel suspended above his palm by squared off fingertips that clapped over the bottom edging.
He was standing off to the side of the space, out of the way in case someone where to come in to fetch their own fuel, yet he didn't take a seat as many others would in his situation. He simply stood, long legs locked straight, shoulders pulled back, and stance almost slightly formal, as if he were speaking to another and performing his duties as Prime, and NOT just getting Energon completely alone. The only thing to break this stance was a slight downturn of his helm, which permitted blue optics to lock upon the matching liquid in the cube. Optimus almost seemed trapped in thought, over analyzing the container, though his mind was elsewhere.
Optimus was worried for Fortress Maximus. He didn't think the large mech would follow through with the... warning... in deactivating the convicts without trying to rally someone else onto his side. But even then? He had to keep tabs on the next few days. Perhaps speak with the tank if given an opportunity, but not seek him out and draw the conflict to the surface. Time may not heal all injuries, but it can ease the pain some. He could only hope that that proposition for murder, was a reaction in the moment, and not a constant thought that still seethed openly.
The metal thumb plate pressed against the cubes surface, a light squeaking of metal against the reinforced glass ringing out with a soft squeal. Optimus' eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he observed the thumbs motion, his processor spiraling down further into other concerns.
Really, this conflict was the last thing he needed to deal with. He had far more important things he should be worrying over, like Wheeljack and his antagonistic ways, what was to come with the Dark Energon that was likely still in play, MECH and the chaos THAT nonsense spurred on.
MECH was exceptionally notable though, for it was difficult enough having one threat to worry over, the Decepticons being a looming shadow that suffocated everything below it, but to add another? Another thing that was not as familiar to him? Was unsettling. Sure they could learn about humans, but they were still a completely alien species to him, not as... predictable... to some extent the Decepticons were. The fact they try to cut up Cybertronian like butchers for advancing their weaponry capabilities? Was... barbaric... The sight of Breakdown being ripped into on the small screen Ratchet had been holding, was burnt into his memories on just how far the humans would go.
The clever little creatures made up for their fragile build and tiny size with wicked cunning and an element of surprise and mysteriousness.
